The World Ended And Began
by Kiro Angel
Summary: Harry never thought he would get a Soulmate. When he nursed his wounds in the cupboard under the stairs, he was certain that no one could love a freak like him. But when he did find love, it was so much more magical than he thought it would be. And his new Mark is what makes it happen. Soulmate!fic, slash, m/m, all that. Drarry. Companion to When Fire Met Ice.


AN: Hey, guys! I've been caught up with life- or, rather, fictional characters' lives- so I haven't been writing much at all. Sorry about that. I've been floating in a sea of Drarry and, much to my therapist's amusement, Snarry.

However, I have a bit of a treat for you guys. This is one of two one-shots, one centering on Draco and the other Harry. They don't overlap until the end but I think that they tie together nicely.

I personally dislike the idea of Marks, I think it is lazy and overcomplicated and overly romantic, yet I just can't stop myself from writing them for some reason. Here you guys go, then!

Also, I do not own Harry Potter or the characters, creatures, places, etc. from the books. That all belongs to JK Rowling and Scholastic, I believe.

Enjoy, bros!

~Kiro

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Harry never thought he would have a Soulmate. When he was locked in the cupboard under the stairs when he was five years old, nursing his wounds after his latest encounter with his Unckle, he was sure no one would ever love a freak like him. After all, his parents had left him alone with the Dursleys, they couldn't have really loved him. He didn't deserve love.

When he found out the real truth about his heritage, his parents, his magic, Harry could hardly believe it. His parents hadn't abandoned him, but... loved him. Loved him enough to sacrifice themselves for his safety. Harry had never felt so accepted in his life.

~

When he first found out about Marks, Harry didn't know what to think. It was his fourth year and he had just been called upon to take part in the tournament. His name was read aloud after it had been spit from the cauldron and the Hall rang with protest.

Protest after protest bombarded his ears, among them "He doesn't even have his mark yet!" "How is he supposed to take part in a dangerous tournament if he isn't even linked to a soulmate yet!" and "What if he dies? What will happen to his unMarked meant-to-be?" That last one was supposedly simultaneously the most ludicrous and most asked question. If one was killed before their sixteenth birthday, it was said to be fate. They never had a Soulmate in the first place or, if they did, that person was issued a new one. That was never an issue, so the point was ludicrous yet still a vital fear in everyone's hearts.

While Harry was swamped with the situation, adding confusion upon confusion upon confusion, he was thrust into dangerous situations and sudden realizations. He never even had the time or memory to ask Hermione about Marks, so caught up was he in the games and the drama and the return of Voldemort.

~

It wasn't until the end of fifth year that the subject resurfaced. In a desperate attempt to cheer Harry up, his friends had started talking about their Marks that they would get over the summer.

"Can you believe it, Harry? I can't wait to find out what mine says. I wonder what her hair will be like. I wonder if I'll know her. What about you, Harry? Harry?" Ron poked him in the side and he looked up, startled.

"Uh, sorry, what were you saying?"

With a sigh, Hermione clarified.

"Your Mark, Harry. We'll be getting them this summer."

"My what?"

Ron gaped at him and Hermione seemed very surprised, but then a look of something close to understanding, then pity crossed her face.

"Your Mark, Harry. Surely you know what that is?"

Harry merely shook his head, confused about the entire conversation.

"I've heard people talking about that in the halls, but I don't know what it is, no. Why, is it important?"

At this time Ron finally was able to get his head wrapped around the fact that Harry didn't know what a Mark was and immediately, loudly, and vehemently began to "inform" him.

"IMPORTANT? IMPORTANT!? Harry this is your LIFE we are talking about! How can you not know about this? Hasn't someone told you?" he was interrupted by a sharp elbow to the ribs from Hermione.

"Harry, a Mark is a special tattoo that only wizards get. It appears on the wizard's sixteenth birthday and signifies the bond between a witch or wizard and their soulmate. It is usually a phrase in the other person's handwriting, but can be a drawing or symbol, and it always refers to the bond between the two. It can appear anywhere on the body and be any color. It is originally a light imprint but when next the pair comes in contact with each other, their Marks glow and turn bright. The brighter the glow, the stronger the bond."

At the end of the long, encyclopedia-like summary, Harry looked doubtful, confused, and apprehensive. The next two hours were spent explaining the concept to the naive wizard.

~

On the day before Harry's sixteenth birthday, he hurried through his chores and locked himself in his room. As soon as the clock struck midnight, he shot out of bed and tore off his clothes, searching everywhere for the Mark he was told would appear, hoping against hope that he would find proof that someone really could love him.

It took him a total of fifteen minutes to find his Mark, so focused was he on looking in all the smallest places that he did not see what was right in front of him. It was there, on his chest, a light silver script that curled around empty space. The script was elegant and neat and, he was sure, no one's handwriting that he knew. It wasn't Ginny's, which, surprisingly, didn't bother him that much. It wasn't of any girl he knew, the "w" curving in a unique, slash-like manner unique to his Soulmate. Stumped, he lay back in his bed and thought.

Ginny didn't react well. His friends supported him, but he narrowly missed being killed by a flying shoe. He was nearly mauled by fangirls wanting to touch him. One particular girl whose Mark proclaimed that "dreams come true" stalked him half the year until, surprisingly, she touched another fangirl who was trying to maul Harry and the two glowed quite brightly. Harry was relieved and, two years later, after the war, was asked to come to their wedding. He politely declined.

Many of his friends found their Soulmates. Hermione and Ron Bonded the first day, and many within the first week afterward. It made Harry feel even more lonely when he did not, not the first month, nor the second, nor any after that.

When, after the end of the year, he still hadn't found his Soulmate, he spent every night tracing the words on his chest. He thought of them every night, what they would be like, how he would make them happy. It was what kept him through his year in the woods.

During the day of the Final Battle, he thought often of his mystery Beloved. He thought of how he would miss them when he died and how he wished he could have met them before he as killed. Most of all, he thought of how he had to do this in order to keep them safe, whoever they were.

When he woke from his death, Harry's first thought was that he hoped his Mark hadn't been disfigured by the curse, his second that he would have a chance to meet his Beloved, and his third that he had to finish this for them. So he did.

Harry spent the summer after that rebuilding, sweaty work, and when he removed his shirt to keep cool many eyes were drawn to his Mark. It stood stark against his chest, silver words curling around the scar that was all that was left of his encounter with death. He refused to put his shirt back on when people mentioned it, he referred to practicality and ignored them. The truth was, he liked to be reminded of it. He needed to remind himself that there was a purpose after Voldemort, that he did have someone to love him, he did have a chance at a normal life. His Mark could give him the reassurances that he needed.

He noticed the teachers give him surprised looks. Apparently they had recognized the hand writing. That was fine by him, but they didn't tell and be didn't ask. Even when the miraculously-alive Snape nearly keeled over seeing it on his first outing out of bed rest. Harry had gotten quite the lecture from Pomfrey for that one.

Harry also discovered that he, indeed, favored the male figure. Watching all those shirtless men work on the rebuilding was nearly enough to drive him insane. He wasn't opposed to the idea, he was never a bigot, that was all his relatives, but it was, nonetheless, an abrupt discovery. He had never really thought about it, he was quite comfortable with girls, but that was just what it was. Comfort. A good friendship. He found fire looking at broad shoulders and muscles and... You get the idea.

On the first day back, an eighth year for all those whose educations had been interrupted by the war, he was nervous. He was hoping to meet his beloved this year and had already decided that he would return Malfoy's wand. The man was attractive and, there at the back of his mind, he had a tiny thought nibbling that maybe, maybe- but he stopped it there.

~

During the welcoming speech, Harry worked up his courage. It was best to do this now rather than later, so when the headmistress finally finished he hauled himself up and, ignoring his friends' inquiries, walked over to the Slytherin table.

He stood awkwardly behind the stiff-as-a-board ex-Death Eater. The young man wasn't wearing the gloves that he had before and during the war, and that made Harry wonder. He must have loosened up after the war, or at least decided that he could deal with a relationship now that His Moldiness wasn't stinking up Malfoy Manor. No matter the reason, Harry was happy that, yes, he could touch- just in case.

After a few seconds, Harry cleared his throat and tapped him on a shoulder, to which the handsome man turned, raising an eyebrow in question.

Harry raised his voice to be heard over the noise of the hall and proclaimed, quite awkwardly

"Hi, uh, I just kind of wanted to give you this..."

He roughly thrust the stick of Hawthorn between them, handle-out for Draco to take. Harry watched as wonder, confusion, and awe flooded the Slytherin's features as he looked first to the wand, then to Harry. Reluctantly, cautiously, almost as if he was waiting for the other boy to snatch it back, Draco reached out for the wand, loosely curling his fingers around the handle.

Drawing his eyes from the wood, Harry gazed into the eyes of his former enemy and, completely forgetting the shape in his grip, dropped it in surprise. There on Draco's face was the a more serene expression than should have been possible on the boy's face. It was so beautiful that Harry forgot his grip and felt the rod slip from his fingers.

The movement brought him back to reality and his Seeker reflexes kicked in. His hand shot down to grasp the wand, instead rasping against the soft skin across bony fingers, touching bare, warm epidermis and causing a shock. An explosion happened at that point, purely of light and magic. A shockwave of raw magic traversed its way through space, accompanied by the visible white light of purity. As the waves passed over the two forms, two Marks began to burn with light, blinding, literally burning through clothing to display to the whole world, nine words in bright silver and pure green.

Curling around the scarred heart of the Wizarding Savior, five elegant silver words were etched.

'The World Ended and Began'

And against pale skin, twining around the dark memory of the terror of the Wizarding World, the tattoo on his Destined's skin, four words so pure of emerald it seemed impossible:

'When Fire Met Ice'

The sheer power of the reaction nearly burned the senses of the surrounding tables, as well as knocking both boys to the ground in the shockwave.

~

If the Mark debacle hadn't shocked the audience, what happened next surely did. The couple exchanged friendly, flirty banter, hauled themselves to their feet, and walked hand in hand out of the hall. Apparently soul mates trump all. Even hatred.

At least that is what the tabloids said. They zeroed in on the event, the people needing something good to think on in leu of the war. The Bonding between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy became a symbol of the reform, love trumps hate, something positive that every witch and wizard in England focused on. The Bonding was made legend, their Marks noted down in history. The wand became a piece of worship, almost, known as the luckiest wand in history. But through it all was the couple themselves. Harry truly did get his one Love, and even got his happily ever after.


End file.
